


Nothing More Than A Machine

by von_gelmini, witchway



Series: Messages [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending -- By the end of the series, Arc Reactor Angst, Arc Reactor Kink, College Student Peter Parker, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21931759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/von_gelmini/pseuds/von_gelmini, https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway
Summary: It was the first timeanyonemade love toallof him. Had wanted to. Hadn’t been… repulsed.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Messages [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558027
Comments: 51
Kudos: 136





	1. THE Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second 'book' of the Messages series. There is so much at risk at the end of the last book, **Messages Unsent**. More of what they are on the edge of losing and how they got to that point, needed to be shown. The ‘tomorrow’ mentioned at the end of Messages Unsent will begin in Book Three.
> 
> ‘Machine’ will be 5 chapters long and is complete. Posting will be on our usual Sunday/Thursday schedule.
> 
> We hope you subscribe to the series and the stories within it, so you can get the notifications as each part and chapter comes out. 
> 
> Thank you for following the story this far.
> 
> * * *

Tony was a man with a backbone. He could be insistent and stubborn. He refused to back down against Steve’s pressure over the Accords. Even as he lied to Ross, he still agreed to them in principle. He worked to amend them after he got back to the compound and finally took the man’s call. He was determined during those negotiations. Demanding even. He learned to stand up to Fury. Went toe to toe with the most intimidating man in the universe when he had to. Thankfully, he never had to very often. But when it came down to things he believed in, things he needed to keep his life in balance, he could fight against anyone.

Unless the fight was against Howard. The man was long dead, but his legacy still put its demands on him. Tony might own fifty-one percent of Stark Industries, but Howard loomed large over one hundred percent of it. It was his name on the buildings. It was his name on everything, other than the suits, that Tony ever created. The expectation was, even when he wore the mask of being a playboy, Stark _always_ came first.

It started slowly. Only maybe a dozen times spread throughout the first two months after they’d been together three. There was sometimes a night spent away taking care of this problem or that. Things which _someone else_ determined ‘the face of the company’ was needed to fix. No matter who else he was, he was always that. He called Peter every night religiously when he was away. They talked but, even if Tony didn’t want them to be, their conversations were superficial. The openness they had was quickly gone. Tony didn’t dare bring it back. Not when the next morning he had to be THE Tony Stark, the person who so impressed Peter in the beginning. And the person who, now he’d been left behind for three months, Tony hated. He hated himself for being unable to tell Pepper… tell _Howard…_ no.

Then a dozen times over two months became dozen every month. Nights away were always one, often two, sometimes three. And those times strayed further afield. Europe, the Middle East, India, China. Long flights that Pepper never factored in as part of his time away from Peter. 

Since they were divorced, Tony was a single man in her eyes. Even though he often spoke of Peter, she never saw the man he loved as anything more than just another bubble butt twink passing through Tony’s bed. None of the men in his life before their marriage had ever been anything else. There was the occasional actual affair with a woman, but the men were gone after a night, maybe two. So even though he and Peter were together longer, several months, the best she could see him as was one of his affairs. _And he wasn’t!_ Tony tried to convey this. But every demand Stark made on his time was of the utmost importance. Despite being able to tell Nick Fury, the most frightening man in the world, NO, Tony couldn’t say no to Howard’s legacy.

He had a responsibility to the Avengers as well as to Stark. Sam, New-Cap, didn’t insist on as many superfluous meetings as Steve had, but that meant every one he called was important. Tony might’ve declared Peter an Avenger on the Q ship, but that declaration didn’t carry any weight with the rest of them. Despite the fact that Peter was a young man now, they still saw him as the fifteen year old boy who went to Berlin. He was excluded from the meetings, from the crises that needed attending to _now._ Crises which could take Tony away from home for multiple days. Or left him buried so deep in his work building new tech for the team that Peter was ignored, even if they were sharing the same space together.

Tony spent more time behind his mask every month than he did free from it. Never knowing when the next call would come, he didn’t dare let that mask down. Not even when he and Peter were together. Their long nights of tenderness and openness and confession left Tony too vulnerable. Often for days afterwards. And he didn’t have _days_ afterwards anymore. He certainly couldn’t let any of _them_ see him that way. Vulnerability led to… things he’d much rather forget. Things packed away where those _other things_ went. Things he never spoke of, not even to Peter. Thankfully the topic of them never came up or he would’ve. Back when they had time together, there was nothing he couldn’t say to Peter. And nothing he didn’t trust would be held safe by him.

On flights alone, in hotel rooms alone, he missed Peter terribly. And Tony missed the person he’d been with him even more. But when he _looked,_ the things he looked at made him smile fondly. It was nothing like the way he felt when they lay in each other’s arms or moved casually about the penthouse together, comfortably in each other’s space, before. But _looking_ was the closest he could get. Even though he knew he shouldn’t do it, he needed that feeling of being connected too much.

When they actually _were_ together, things were hurried. He was home, but there were Things To Do during the day. Peter had classes. Which Tony insisted he never miss and that he study for, because Tony’s influence made certain that the classes were actually challenging. By the time Tony walked in the elevator from downstairs, and Peter’s homework was complete, they fell into bed, exhausted from the day. Lovemaking took on a perfunctory air. Tony couldn’t be open, even if they didn’t just fall asleep afterwards. Which mostly they did. Mornings were even more rushed than the nights before. Early classes, early flights to catch. 

The guilt Tony felt from not being there, he tried to make up by giving Peter things. Things he wanted to give him regardless. Not _meant_ to impress, meant to show his love for the boy. Meant to bring them closer. Even as he did it, he _knew_ he was failing. But he couldn’t do anything to stop himself. He was a failure who couldn’t be anything else. What had been there the first three months was clearly an aberration. _This_ was who he really was. THE Tony Stark. 

And this was how it went for THE Tony Stark, wasn’t it? It was how it went for decades before Peter. The affair or fling or one night stand was always impressed and appreciative of the things Tony bought them. There had never been any openness for them to miss. They didn’t even know _that Tony_ existed. If even the smallest bit of _that Tony_ creeped out, like it occasionally would with Pepper or the Avengers, Tony quickly saw that _that Tony_ wasn’t wanted. _That Tony_ was a nuisance. It was _that Tony_ who was seen as manipulative. Not the one in the mask who could be nothing _but_ manipulative. Emotional muscle memory took over and, even though he wasn’t aware of it happening, Peter became one of _them._

Those first three months were glorious. Tony ached at their memory as they were driven farther and farther away. The memories were all he had left of Peter, the actual Peter, not the one he could only watch. There was the night Peter rode him for the first time. The first night Peter begged him for _all_ of his cock, panting and _needing._ The day when they were both so desperate, they never made it to the bedroom. Tony pushed Peter up against the wall and held him there while he fucked him. And Peter, who could easily break away, didn’t. Peter made Tony feel strong. 

The times over the lab table, over the kitchen counter, hidden in a closet at an event. That one time when, even though once Peter realized what was happening he became adorably nervous and shy, nothing could stop the heat of desire. Tony had him naked up against the big window ninety six stories in the sky. He made Peter come all over the glass. Where _anyone_ could see, the boy squeaked in complaint between moans of pleasure. So many memories.

One memory _always_ stood out. The memory of the first time Peter made him come from going down on him. It was the first time _anyone_ made love to _all_ of him. Had wanted to. Hadn’t been… repulsed.


	2. Can I touch it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No data ruin an experiment. Only create new discovery. ‘Uncontrollable physiological response generated by experiment’,” Tony said, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second 'book' of the Messages series. There is so much at risk at the end of the last book, **Messages Unsent**. More of what they are on the edge of losing and how they got to that point, needed to be shown.
> 
> * * *
> 
> We hope you subscribe to the series and the stories within it, so you can get the notifications as each part and chapter comes out.
> 
> Thank you for following the story this far.

It had been a few weeks in — a few weeks of Peter walking around in a daze, wondering if any of it was real. He had spent  _ so much time _ dreaming about being Tony’s boyfriend, he sometimes wondered if he were still there. Living in a dream world. Acting like an idiot. Then he would check the messages on his phone. And  _ grin  _ like an idiot. It was a continuous cycle. (But it wasn’t all bad. He was happy, that was for sure.)

He had been through multiple positions with Tony now. He had ridden Tony’s cock and was getting a  _ lot  _ better and completing his sentences in bed. He was able to let Tony go long enough for oral, he could even come that way. He was even able to do that crazy ankle-on-the-shoulder thing that Tony liked. And he (mostly) had no trouble walking across a room naked (as long as it wasn’t the room with massive windows. Which was every room in the tower. So no being naked in the penthouse.) 

_ And,  _ more importantly, he was becoming more familiar with what Tony liked in bed. 

Which meant that, dammit, he was comfortable enough to start asking for some things of his own.

Which is why he had pushed Tony down on his back onto the bed that night, and boldly started undoing buttons as he kissed the man on the mouth. Which Tony allowed — he could sometimes be indulgent (before rolling them over and getting down to it. Peter never complained because, oh boy, he was ALWAYS ready to get down to 'it' to. 'It' could last for hours. 'It' was always very, very good.) So he had time to unbutton the shirt all the way. So he got to push the shirt away as he began kissing Tony’s neck and shoulder. And was bold enough to stroke downward, teasing a nipple, running over his ribcage.

But not bold enough to do more. Not without looking into Tony’s eyes, and asking, “Can I touch it?”

Tony blinked slowly. “Do you  _ want _ to?” He tried to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

“You said it was sensitive… here…” Peter said as gently as he could,  _ trying  _ to pretend he hadn’t been dreaming about this for  _ years. _ He placed his fingers gingerly on the edge, two fingers on the reactor itself, two fingers on skin.

Then he looked up and tried to use his best ‘innocent’ eyes. “I wasn’t sure what that meant.”

Tony shuddered, his eyes fluttered shut, and his lips parted. Peter had seen that look before, but only during sex, when the pleasure was too much. Tony opened his eyes and looked at Peter. He reached his fingertip down next to the boy’s hand. “Here,” he traced the narrow line of white scar tissue around the arc reactor’s housing, “is sensitive.” He took Peter’s finger and showed him. “And here.” He moved the boy’s finger to the smooth unmarked skin. “But here…” He shuddered again. “Where they meet. Where the sensation blends…”

“In a good way?” 

He bit his lips trying to keep the words in. All he could do was nod in assent. He swallowed. “Yes,” he finally admitted. 

He took Peter’s fingers and placed them on the arc reactor itself. He closed his eyes again. “I  _ know  _ I can’t feel it. But I  _ feel  _ it.” His breath hitched. “You don’t mind this?”

“Mind it? Tony, it’s beautiful. I’m… and I’m not just saying this because I’m a big science geek… I mean I want it known I was on a freaking spaceship and also another planet and… Tony, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a beautiful, precise, work of engineering. Something I created. But… nothing more than a machine,” he said, rather flatly, as if repeating someone else’s words.

“Sorry… _ are you kidding? _ It’s amazing… it’s the only one of its kind.”

Tony’s arc reactor was different from the one in War Machine or in any of the robots. It was the only one that was powered by the new element he created. It was the one he tinkered with continuously. It  _ was  _ the only one of its kind.

Peter shook his head and tried again. He had a plan (had had a plan for a  _ long  _ time) and he would ruin it if he geeked out  _ too  _ much.

“So,” he licked his lips, trying to fake calm. “Feel… like… what?” he asked carefully, placing the tips of his fingers directly in the center of the circle. “Like, pain? Or pressure?” 

He hesitated before finally letting the words out. Only JARVIS (who reacted neutrally, like a computer) and Pepper (who reacted  _ far  _ less than neutrally) had seen his reaction. “Like electricity. Like electricity running all the way through my body. Every nerve. Not pain… exhilaration.”

“I mean, all the time? I notice you never wear a bandage over it, and I always assumed the old t-shirts feel ok on it since you wear them all the time but does different fabric irritate it?”

Tony shook his head. “It’s not sensitive to light touch. But… pressure? The heat of skin? When I touch your back or your chest with it… I feel it then.”

Peter grinned. “You can feel that?”

“You haven’t noticed how tight I hold you sometimes when… it wouldn’t be a time when I’d normally hold you that tightly?”

“Oh, I thought I just made you hard.”

“You do. But…” Tony felt his face heat. “It does,” he admitted. _ “Every _ nerve.”

“So…” Peter began stroking the center without pretense. “If I were to… do this… when I went down on you, would that feel good?”

He shuddered again. He was reacting worse than his virgin did their first night together. “Yeah,” he breathed out quietly. “I mean… no one’s ever done that but…” Was he  _ blushing? _ Actually blushing? “I’ve…” He let the implication hang. But he finished it. “Touched it when…” SO embarrassing! Would he ever control his uncontrollable new habit of telling Peter  _ everything? _ Even things about  _ this. _ “I was touching myself. It…” He closed his eyes and took a long breath. “Heightens the experience.”

Peter lost the ability to breathe for a moment. He quickly recovered (oh god this was better than any fantasy he’d ever had. But wasn’t it always that way with Tony?) “So…”

“So, can you tell  _ where  _ I’m touching it? I mean, you can also  _ see  _ me touching it,” Peter said, as tenderly as possible, trying to hide his excitement. He kept his waist decidedly away from Tony’s legs, he had no intention of letting Tony know how hard he was getting. This was a science experiment he had wanted to perform for years, and  _ finally, _ he might be allowed to.

“Close your eyes.”

Tony closed his eyes. “Seeing or not, doesn’t matter. I’ve… run experiments. The pressure causes an electrical connection between the device and the housing.”  _ The housing that sinks so far into my chest that Pepper's entire hand almost fit into it. _ He kept his eyes closed. It was much easier to talk about this with them shut.  _ It’s just curious science fascination… _

“So how does this feel…”

Peter licked a long line from one side of Tony’s chest to the other, crossing the reactor. He smiled when he was done. It did feel just like putting his tongue to a battery, just as he had imagined.

_ …No, it isn’t!  _ Tony sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. “Fuck Pete!” The shock of the sensation caused his eyes to fly open and he saw Peter dragging his tongue across the edge on his way to the other side of his chest. “Do that again.” 

“You cheated, you’re ruining the experiment,” Peter said.

“No data ruin an experiment. Only create new discovery. ‘Uncontrollable physiological response generated by experiment’,” Tony said, grinning.

“Hmmm… we’ll need more time.  _ Much  _ more time.”

“Good thing we have the rest of our lives.” Tony smiled.


	3. If I lick it, it’s mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You accumulate them. Part of the job. Cost of doing business. Scars. Not you, obviously, but us mere mortals… They don’t disturb me,” Tony said, unconvincingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second 'book' of the Messages series. There is so much at risk at the end of the last book, Messages Unsent. More of what they are on the edge of losing and how they got to that point, needed to be shown.
> 
> * * *
> 
> We hope you subscribe to the series and the stories within it, so you can get the notifications as each part and chapter comes out.
> 
> Thank you for following the story this far.

“Really, close your eyes,” Peter insisted, covering Tony’s eyes with his hands.

“All right Professor Parker. I don’t want to spoil your experiment.” He shut his eyes underneath Peter’s hands.

“Tell me what you feel,” he whispered before kissing the arc reactor directly in the center.

“Pressure. Not like against your back. Direct. Right over the connection point. It’s… a lower frequency. Sitting on a subwoofer while some sfx explosion is in the background, but no volume.”

“And this?” he placed a gentle kiss at the bottom, veering left.

“Whoa!” Tony made an expression somewhere between extreme pleasure and shock. “Yeah. That’s like… It’s…” He bit his lip. “Look down and see what it feels like,” he said with a smirk.

“So, the center is _less_ sensitive? Interesting…” Peter wet his tongue and drew a wet circle in the middle, as gently as possible. “Can you feel this?”

“Not less, different. Each sensation, center and edge, is different. And when you bridge between the reactor and housing like you did with your tongue? That’s… fucking orgasmic. But like… orgasmic when you’ve already come too many times in a row. Good, but whoa.”

“So… that was a little too much. What about this?” He blew gently across the center. 

“And this?” he wet his tongue and let it flick over the edge on the right side, caressing it, the same way Tony would tease his nipple (until he begged for mercy.)

Tony smiled. How to explain the weird way his body worked since he came home… so long ago? “There were wires…” He took Peter’s finger and ran it over invisible lines. They were gone but sometimes when he looked in the mirror, he still saw the ghosts of them. Especially the ghosts of them turned black. “That’s all in my head I think. Feeling the rush underneath my skin. The wires that were there are gone. But it’s… warm when you do that. Lightly like that. Harder and wetter, it’s… that’s when it’s fuckin’ intense.”

“Can you tell the difference between my tongue, and my fingertips?

“Only at the edge… when your tongue is on both the housing and the reactor. Do you feel it on your tongue? A shock? Is it… does it hurt you?”

“I think if I tried to _eat_ it, maybe, but just this…” He flicked his tongue over it again. “It’s just this lovely silver edge... I can’t describe it. I don’t know how it would feel to a regular person — I mean I guess _you’ve_ never licked it.”

Describing the taste as a metal — silver — resonated with Tony. When the sensation was intense, he sometimes experienced some synesthesia, a taste. He wasn’t willing to admit that yet. Only so much weirdness at a time. 

“No baby, I’m not a contortionist like you. I can’t lick the center of my own chest.” Tony chuckled. “This isn’t a valid experiment for what it’s like with a non-Enhanced Individual.”

Peter snorted. “As if. No one else gets to do this but me.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Besides, if I lick it, it’s mine.”

Tony leaned over and licked Peter’s shoulder. “Mine.”

The experiments went on, all with eyes closed. How many fingertips? How about now? A long cooling breath, and an attempt to fog up the sapphire, can you tell the difference? The left side, or the right? A quick kiss versus a long, sucking kiss, the kind Tony used when he tried to make bruises? 

“You aren’t… you aren’t imagining this, Tony, _all_ of this. The difference between the edges and the center — you’re reacting without any visual input.”

“There’s an undeniable sensation. The electricity. The…” He hesitated. How could he explain this and not have someone freak out at his weirdness? But this wasn’t _someone._ This was Peter. Someone else who was _weird._ Who had his own secrets he’d never told anyone but Tony. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about revealing _all_ of his weirdness. “There can be a taste sometimes. So no, it’s not imagination.” 

“Wet versus dry is sensation. Tongue versus fingertip is texture. And you’re reacting to all of it.”

“Some more than others. They’re not all that intense. Otherwise I couldn’t manage.” He smiled. “It’s only when the pressure’s strong enough to move the connection points or the metal on the rim of the arc reactor touches the housing wall in certain ways. Which your tongue does in all the _right_ ways.

“It’s odd… it’s not there when I shower or swim, it’s… maybe that’s because that’s an even application of water. Not… focused. It’s watertight. It doesn’t get into it. But your tongue’s wetness isn’t getting _into_ it. It’s getting _on_ it. On both parts at once. With pressure. Water gets on all of it at once, but there’s no pressure. Or focus.”

“When you sweat, can you feel the individual drops?” Peter asked. (But mentally, he was calculating. No one had thought to touch Tony… this way? **_Nobody_** _?_ Was the world populated by morons?) 

“Huh. Never thought to try. I’m usually busy doing other things…” He grinned over at Peter and put his finger on him. “Hi ‘other things’.”

“So… there is tickling, the ‘not enough sensation please apply more or stop’, and then there is over-stimulation, ‘too much sensation please stop now’. And you haven’t asked me to stop yet. 

“Can you… tell me which one feels better?” Peter leaned down and flicked his tongue over the scar tissue where the skin met the reactor, then stopped and did the same in the center. As he did, he moved his body closer. He was as hard as a rock, and he pressed against Tony to let him know. He still had questions, a lifetime worth of questions, but he was ready to save the rest for later.

“God baby. Over there? Around…” he paused. “Over the… It’s… I think _that’s_ in my head.” He turned his face away, taking quite a few steadying breaths before looking back at Peter. “You accumulate them. Part of the job. Cost of doing business. Scars. Not you, obviously, but us mere mortals. They don’t disturb me,” Tony said, unconvincingly. 

He ran his finger over the shrapnel pockmarks and the long cut on the top of his right pectoral. “These… a little… more than the others.” He circled the arc reactor. “This?” He sucked in his lips. “I…” His breaths quickened uncontrollably and he fought hard to steady them. “There’s… a lot… of _there_ there, baby, okay?” he said finishing his words hurriedly. He never felt vulnerable about _any_ of this anymore. His body was what his body was and he was used to it. Even liked it. It’s how he saw himself when he closed his eyes. Only… Peter was able to crack him open like an egg. _Just be careful he doesn’t see how rotten it is on the inside._

“Scar tissue can be sensitive, that’s normal…” Peter started, nuzzling again. He wanted to go on to discuss skin sensitivity of erogenous zones versus Tony’s reaction to the reactor, but then he noticed his lover’s face. 

“Hey…” he said, reaching out and caressing the face with his hand. “Too much?” He didn’t want to stop — _damn_ he was ready to go down on the reactor the way Tony went down on his cock — but he remembered sometimes Tony would stop just like this in the middle of things when Peter would get overwhelmed. Because Tony was a good lover. Peter wanted to be a good lover too.

“Baby… that you… god, it’s just… kind of… a big deal, okay? That you…” Tony smiled at Peter. “You’re kind of a miracle, Pete.” The anxiety passed so quickly. Because he was near Peter. The way Peter reacted. The arc reactor, the scars. But then he’d broken off what he was doing when he sensed it was too much for Tony to deal with. He didn’t pull away or blame him. He didn’t run off. He _stayed._

Peter sat up and peeled off his shirt, casting it aside. “Sometimes, when you play with my nipples, when you do that thing with your mouth, it gets to be _way_ too much, and what I want is _this,”_ he said, laying his chest solidly down upon Tony’s chest, pressing them together first, before relaxing and letting Tony feel some of his weight. “Does that help?”

Tony wrapped his arms around Peter. “Uh huh. I like the way it feels like this. Both low frequency and high, along with pressure. It’s balanced. And yeah… it kinda goes all the way down. Every nerve. But with you being the point of contact, maybe a few _specific_ nerves are involved.”

Peter cupped the man’s face and kissed him on the mouth. “Is it ok that I like to play with it? Because I won’t if you don’t… but I like it. _A lot._ And I really like feeling it pressed against me like this.”

Tony looked at Peter in wonderment. “I… yeah. I like the way it feels… pressed up against you. I liked the _experiment._ It was a success.”

“So, it’s ok?”

“More than okay.” 

“So…” Peter tried to look innocent… more like a boy who had just suddenly got a brilliant idea just now and less like a boy who had gotten off to this particular fantasy for three years running… 

_“Can_ I go down on you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't leave more kudos, so leave a <3 as a 2nd one.
> 
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> 
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	4. Beautiful eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You wanna taste me?” he asked, ready to tease. But when Peter moved his hand, pressing palm down covering the arc reactor, fingers slightly curled and brushing lightly over the scar circling it, managing to give him every kind of sensation all at once. Tony lost coherent thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second 'book' of the Messages series. There is so much at risk at the end of the last book, **Messages Unsent**. More of what they are on the edge of losing and how they got to that point, needed to be shown.
> 
> * * *
> 
> We hope you subscribe to the series and the stories within it, so you can get the notifications as each part and chapter comes out.
> 
> Thank you for following the story this far.

“Because I’ve noticed,” Peter said factually, “that you know what I taste like, in fact you’ve gotten me to come in your mouth, _more_ than once, and I’ve gotten to do it none-ce. And that’s hardly fair.” 

“You’ve gone down on me before though. Not that I’m objecting at all to your suggestion, baby. Especially if you…,” he hesitated, “touch me… here,” he moved Peter’s hand back up to the arc reactor, “while you’re doing it.”

Peter tried not to grin like an idiot. Tried, and failed.

“Okay,” is all he said, nodding, trying not to appear too eager.

To that end he stopped himself and kissed Tony again, cupped his face and kissed him for quite a while. “You _like_ pressing it against me, I’m glad. I really like that too. It feels… good,” he said, then gave up trying to talk.

Talking was Tony’s thing.

Starting at Tony’s Adam’s apple, just like in his fantasies, and started kissing straight down. He kissed his way over the arc reactor and worked his way down. He was thrilled to be able to nuzzle Tony’s erection through the cloth — he was _never_ in charge of the undressing and he had wanted to do this for so long — and as he ran his face up and down the length of Tony’s shaft he reached out, gently, to place his fingers on the arc reactor.

With the other hand he tried to undo Tony’s belt, but when doing it one-handed took too long, Tony took over. When the pants were finally discarded Peter bent down and, with his other hand solidly wrapped around the base of Tony’s cock, he began.

It was so much better than any fantasy, knowing, finally, what he knew. He alternated touches between the center of the arc reactor and the edge. He remembered what Tony said about the scar tissue and fingered it too. Every gentle touch was followed by a solid palm, held steadily on top of the area of stimulation. And when Tony didn’t stop him, he would begin again.

But it was not as good as his fantasy, in one specific way.

He could hear Tony’s reaction, could feel it. But he had no way of seeing Tony’s face.

Watching Peter attempt to go down on him, the few times he’d tried, had been fantastic. The _sight_ of him far made up for his inexperience. Watching his soft pink lips open and take the head of his cock into the warm wetness of his mouth. Watching his long pale fingers wrap around his shaft, dark in contrast. On that rare occasion, when he looked up, trying to check Tony’s reaction… the kid’s eyes would be the undoing of him. 

Tony grabbed the sheet, grabbed the headboard, even grabbed Peter’s shoulder once. (He was the unbreakable kid after all, if he squeezed too hard.) He put his hands anywhere and everywhere other than Peter’s head. He didn’t force the issue. It was a surprising reaction. He was usually much more selfish about this than about fucking. Even with less experienced partners. Not that he’d hurt… he’d just… push limits a bit harder. 

With Peter, he only gave the occasional guiding suggestion. The kid wasn’t lying in that he’d done it before. Inexperienced, yes, but his virgin wasn’t a virgin where oral was concerned. Tony was just a lot bigger than the boys he’d been with. Besides, there was something to be said for the delights that simply using an eager tongue could bring. 

That wasn’t what Peter was asking for, though. He asked to taste. Which Tony interpreted as wanting him to come in his mouth. They hadn’t done that yet. Peter going down on him was just a very nice way to get him hard so they could fuck. But now Peter had suggested it, Tony wanted to see the kid’s lips coated in his come. Watch it run over his chin as he tried to swallow fast enough to keep it from spilling out of his mouth. That would be a fuckin’ _sight._

“You wanna taste me?” he asked, ready to tease. But when Peter moved his hand, pressing palm down covering the arc reactor, fingers slightly curled and brushing lightly over the scar circling it, managing to give him every kind of sensation all at once. Tony lost coherent thought. He did a good job of recovering, he thought. At least he hoped. Once the initial rush wore off, Tony went back to watching Peter. There was watching Peter’s mouth. But there was also watching his hand so… _lovingly…_ touching him somewhere no one else ever wanted to. Not like that.

Peter was laying orthogonal to him. It was an awkward position for someone not experienced. Tony noticed a bit of a struggle in him. Not a struggle to take more of him down, but more… trying to figure out the mechanics of it all.

“Suggestion, baby?” he said gently. “Lie between my legs. You’re so long limbed, Pete. I swear. Gorgeous. You’ll still be able to…,” it was difficult for him to _ask,_ “reach up, and you’ll be more comfortable.” 

_Please don’t stop reaching up._ In his mind, he begged. He was as bad as his virgin had been about keeping him close his first time. Peter wasn’t just interested in the tech. The way it fit _inside_ his body didn’t leave him repulsed by it (by him.) 

Peter wasn’t just making love to _part_ of him. He was making love to _all_ of him.

Peter followed Tony’s advice and lay between his lover’s legs. Using one hand on Tony’s cock he reached the other up to Tony’s chest (he was _pretty_ sure that’s what Tony was asking for) and continued to caress the arc reactor as he worked Tony’s cock with his mouth.

He played with it casually, most of his concentration on remembering everything he was supposed to do with his mouth (the positioning of his teeth and tongue, and controlling his breathing.) All the time he kept touching Tony’s body as much as he could, laying his arm on Tony’s thigh, positioning the rest of his body next to Tony’s leg. 

That way he could gauge, without looking, each of Tony’s reactions.

And Tony was having _a lot_ of reactions.

This was going so much better than he could have ever dreamed.

But dammit he couldn’t **_see_**. 

It was too weird to just open his eyes at an intimate moment like this, it would be like opening eyes during a kiss. (Sure, he had seen guys in porn do it, but _that was porn_ , where all kinds of impossible things happened.) Besides, whenever he had done it before Tony had caught him at it and it was embarrassing. 

But he couldn’t help it now — the man was making the most amazing noises every time Peter stroked the reactor, his whole body starting and stiffening underneath Peter’s body (not to mention the way his cock was twitching!) and Peter had to risk it…

…only to find, much to his delight, that Tony wasn’t looking down at him at all. Tony’s head was thrown back as he was utterly _lost_. His eyes were lightly closed, his lips parted and wet, face flushed. Beneath his fingers he could feel the rise and fall of the arc reactor as he panted and his chest rose and fell. His breath caught and Peter felt him lie still as a gasp escaped. 

And that was perfect.

And complicated. Now he was concentrating on coordinating teeth, tongue, neck movement AND breathing, all with his eyes open, (and without getting distracted by the beauty of Tony’s face.) It was a challenge. Peter enjoyed a challenge.

And oh, Tony was making the most beautiful noises! Peter wanted to pretend it was because he was doing such an expert job with his mouth (but he knew it was his hand, stroking the center of the reactor, teasing the edges, stroking the scar tissue around it, but he could dream, couldn’t he?) He planned to remember this moment forever. He just hoping he wouldn’t get caught peeking.

Tony opened his eyes and saw the ceiling. But there was something more beautiful he wanted to look at. Bending his neck down, he looked across the length of his body. The long delicate fingers, magical fingers belonging to a miraculous boy, who loved _every_ bit of him. He looked farther down and saw Peter’s dark honey eyes looking up at him. The corners of his mouth turned up at having caught him watching, but then Peter did something with his tongue and a long low moan changed the nature of his smile. The sight of his fingers, his lips, his _eyes…_ he could get lost in those eyes. But then they closed. Peter’s cheeks flushed bright pink and he stopped moving. His closed eyes relaxed instead of holding them tightly shut, as he had he first realized he was caught. Now he was embarrassed.

“Baby.” Tony stretched the word out on a long breath. “Let me see your beautiful eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. Promise me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony was always in control. Peter… god, Peter… Peter _took him **apart.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of second 'book' of the Messages series. In the third book, **Tomorrow** , we return to the main line of the story, picking up from where we ended in **Messages Unsent**.
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Peter couldn’t do much more than whimper (because his mouth was full) but had to comply. He felt guilty, now, but keeping focused on Tony’s peaceful face made it easier. Tony looked… blissful, relaxed in a way Peter wasn’t sure he had ever seen before. That was good. This was good. Peter ran his fingers gently around the scar tissue in a complete circle and watched Tony’s eyes.

Tony’s shudder ran through his entire body, not tightly, but calm, floating, overwhelmed. “Oh god… Peter… fuck baby…” His words were broken as Peter ran his fingers around the housing, gently, slowly. He was unable to complete a sentence. Unable to remember what he wanted to say. Except there were words he only said when Peter had said them first. He said them only once he was sure… once his fears were pushed aside. But he couldn’t hide them. He couldn’t ever hide _anything_ from Peter. “Baby… god… I… I love you. You’re… baby, you’re my _everything.”_

The words rushed out quickly as his shudder finally tightened and despite his not wanting them to, his hips rose, seeking more, coming close. He wanted it to last but he knew he couldn’t. It was an unbelievable sight. Someone who… wanted _him._ He was lost, watching Peter’s eyes, Peter’s hand, _Peter._

Peter’s fingers began to trace around the reactor again, drawing smaller circles, working his way toward the middle. He loved listening to Tony’s voice, loved the beautiful words (wait, did Tony just say “I love you?” He had never said that _during_ sex before.) Loved it even more knowing he didn’t have to worry about keeping his eyes closed. He tried to pick up the pace with his mouth and his hand, all while keeping the slow, gentle pace with the other as he began to stroke the center of the reactor.

“God Peter… god… more… fuck…” Tony reached up and took Peter’s wrist in his hand, probably much harder than he should, but he was far beyond control. “Press harder there baby… just a little… oh fuck… it’s… _so much…_ it’s… perfect.” His words came on a groan caught on a breath tuned into a sigh. A sound Peter had never heard from him. Tony’s his hips moved in a slow rise and fall. Not pushing, just following Peter’s mouth and the tight circle of his hand around his shaft.

Peter tried hard to keep up with Tony’s movement even as he reveled in the feel of Tony’s hand seizing his wrist. Tony was _never_ anything but gentle with him, and that hand around his wrist felt amazing. Even better, Tony was holding his hand in place, and not pulling it away. Peter had done the same to him, more than once. Oh, Peter knew that feeling. Knew it well.

It meant Tony was close, and a fantasy he had entertained for years was about to come true. He closed his eyes, pressed his hand down firmly on the arc reactor and concentrated completely on Tony’s cock.

Tony had had _thoughts_ about coming in Peter’s mouth. Okay, not thoughts. Long drawn out fantasies as he slowly jerked off in this bed, alone. In all of them he was utterly in control up until the very moment he came. Depending on the fantasy, he either kept up a steady patter of his patented dirty talk, or, in the better fantasies, his words were tender, gentle, and entirely too revealing. 

In _none_ of his elaborate fantasies did he just stare gapingly down at Peter and let out a whimpering moan as he watched him swallow, coming as embarrassingly fast as a teenager. 

How many times — probably triple digit numbers — had he come in someone’s mouth? Even watching them like this? Tony was always in control. Peter… god, Peter… Peter _took him_ **_apart_** _._

He watched the moment break. Peter’s hand leaving his chest to join his other in covering his face, probably hoping Tony wouldn’t notice. Of course he noticed. He reached down and, gently this time, took Peter’s wrists, interrupting his attempt to hide his face and wipe clean the mess Tony’d made of him. That would never do. “You’re so beautiful…,” he smiled, “when I’ve made you messy. That’s mine too, baby. Everything… told you that. I want to see you.” His smile turned tender. “Gotta see you, baby. So good. Made me… fuck Peter… you’re beautiful.”

Swallowing _and_ wiping off his face _and_ keeping his hands in place _while_ letting Tony pull his hands away, all at the same time, was pretty tricky. But he _was_ Spider-Man, after all. He was a superhero. He could do this.

When he finally let Tony take both his hands, he was ready. He smiled.

“Wow,” Peter managed. 

“That was… amazing, Tony.

“And I love you too.”

Tony remembered what he’d said. He sucked in his lips, hoping to hide the words that had already spilled from them. His confession was made _before_ he knew that Peter was going to say it. But then he always knew, didn’t he? Peter loved him. He moved his hand from Peter’s wrist and, trying to make it look like a move only done in passing, caressed the side of Peter’s head before he let his hand fall away. The other, he left lightly around the wrist of the hand that had touched him. He couldn’t let go. 

Peter’s eyes dropped. He was trying to suppress a huge grin, and he was failing. He had successfully sucked off his boyfriend — his boyfriend? He had successfully sucked off THE Tony Stark, sex expert, and _that_ was an incredible compliment. He felt like he’d be grinning for days.

“So… that… was good?”

“Fuck… good? That is _so_ not the word.” Tony finally let go of Peter’s wrist and with both hands, brought him up, sliding over his body, until he was stretched out on top of him. He kissed his mess off of the boy’s lips, teasing with his tongue, until he wrapped his arms around Peter’s chest and deepened the kiss. “No one has ever… Peter… I am _in love_ with you. It was…” Tony sighed. His eyelashes fluttered over half-lidded eyes. He looked up into Peter’s face, his expression soft, open… so totally unlike him. 

But Tony Stark™ reappeared and his lips quirked into a smirk. “Yeah, Pete. It was good.” As quickly as he had appeared, Tony Stark™ went back where he belonged. Far, far away from Peter. That bastard had no power over him when he was with Peter. 

He held Peter as he rolled them onto their sides, facing each other. Reaching between them, he smoothed his palm over the head, slicking it with precome before circling the boy’s shaft. 

Tony loved making Peter come like this after he’d come. Making the boy respond to his touch. Watching him fall to pieces under his control. He could go slow and make it last until Peter was begging him to finish him off. Or he could make it quick, leaving Peter gasping to recover. That night, he left Peter gasping.

Peter had figured out how to handle the rush of his coming bringing out too much of his strength. There was _rarely_ any flying off the bed. But there was _always_ the thing that Tony loved. Peter holding onto him tightly… right on the edge of _too_ tight. Almost, but not quite, forgetting that Tony was non-enhanced. And remembering, subconsciously, because Tony wasn’t a wall in his dorm room. Tony was someone he loved.

When Peter calmed and they were lying in each other’s arms, Tony reached behind him, under a spare pillow, and found the soft towels he left there before they went to bed. Gently, he wiped Peter’s face and their bellies clean. A shower _should_ be taken, he knew that. But he didn’t want to separate. Everything was so _open._ He didn’t want it to close yet.

This was it, Peter thought. The part where Tony held him in his arms and said amazing things and Peter just babbled. But not tonight. Closing his eyes Peter searched his brain, determined to say **_something_** _._ He didn’t know what, so he just opened his mouth and tried to say what was going on in his brain.

“Oh god… is this really happening? This isn’t real. I’m dreaming, aren’t I? I didn’t _really_ just successfully go down on… Tony Stark Sex God. And you’re not really holding me and looking into my eyes and telling me you love me…” he tried to continue but it was all too ridiculous. He dissolved into giggles. His brain was obviously not to be trusted.

“Sorry.” 

Tony chuckled. “Yes, it’s all real. And Tony Stark Sex God… _really Pete?”_ He grinned. “…Just made you come your brains out and made you tempted to break things. But you didn’t. Just almost maybe,” he teased. “You didn’t break anything. But baby, I _love_ breaking you.” He caressed Peter’s side, his arm, his face. “Tony Stark Sex God… he’s not here anymore, Pete. All that’s left is Tony… who loves you. Who wants to make you his.” Tony paused. So many confessions. So many words that refused to stay inside him. “And who you’ve made yours.”

The words wouldn’t stop. He didn’t want them to anymore. He wasn’t afraid of them. Well, not _as_ afraid. Maybe the words were safe with Peter. “You're the only one, Peter. The _only_ one. I… fell so _fast,_ baby. I… all that _stuff…_ it's gone. Only with you. I'm… I'm the me I never knew I was hiding. I was just waiting for you to find me.”

“Oh god Tony…”

He touched his forehead to Tony’s forehead, reaching out to touch the mouth that was saying such incredible things. They lay together like that for some time, whispering to each other, making their confessions. 

Peter said, “This ...is so beautiful. _This,”_ he said, waving his hand over them, trying to sum it all up. The whispers. The secrets. The openness. The face in front of him, the face he was certain no one had ever seen before. “I mean that other...that is _hot,_ I’m not complaining. But _this?_ This is perfect. 

“Promise me it will be this way forever.”

It wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't leave more kudos, so leave a <3 as a 2nd one.
> 
> You've come this far, why not leave a comment? 
> 
> Comments are soooooooooo easy. Just cut and paste your favorite line!
> 
> Witchway's Starker blog on tumblr is [thestarkerisobvious](https://thestarkerisobvious.tumblr.com/).  
> Von's Starker blog on tumblr is [starkerstories](https://starkerstories.tumblr.com/).  
> Come on by and visit us.

**Author's Note:**

> You can't leave more kudos, so leave a <3 as a 2nd one.
> 
> You've come this far, why not leave a comment? 
> 
> Comments are soooooooooo easy. Just cut and paste your favorite line!
> 
> Witchway's Starker blog on tumblr is [thestarkerisobvious](https://thestarkerisobvious.tumblr.com/).  
> Von's Starker blog on tumblr is [starker-stories](https://starker-stories.tumblr.com/).  
> Come on by and visit us.


End file.
